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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25615219">You found me again</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/VPABA/pseuds/VPABA'>VPABA</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Character Death, Family, but it ends... not that badly, this is not a happy story, winter has come</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:14:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,093</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25615219</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/VPABA/pseuds/VPABA</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Yeah, it hurts. Dying is a tough business, but it’s even tougher for those left behind.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>You found me again</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I put that together and cried when writing it. Hopefully it'll bring you pain. Love!</p><p>Feedbacks are very much appreciated :))</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">- 304 AC -</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">« Father? » Ned looked up from the paper he held and put it aside. « Come Arya. »</p><p class="p1">His daughter bounced inside and sat next to him. <em>Cat’s seat</em>. « Do you need something sweetling? » Arya frowned and bit her lip. <em>Like Cat</em>. « Robb sent me to tell you a party has been spotted and that they were a good four hours away from Winterfell. »</p><p class="p1">« Any banners? » Arya shook her head and fell silent. He sighed and pulled her to his lap embracing her tightly. « I think it might your mother’s family coming Arya. Should we go up on the turret and see if we can spot any trout? »</p><p class="p1">« I’d like that. » Ned stood and followed his daughter out of the solar. Being outside would do him good, he’d been in this room for far too long. They came across Bran and Rickon on their way and they joined the party.</p><p class="p1">Walking had become considerably more difficult for him, he felt like he bore the weight of the world on his shoulders with each new step.</p><p class="p1">« Father! » He turned and saw his daughter hurrying toward them with what seemed to be letters in her hands. « Maester Luwin received these today. »</p><p class="p1">Ned took the letters from her and looked at the sigils: Lannister, Baratheon, Frey, Umber, Darry, Mooton, Piper and Whent.</p><p class="p1">« Well that’s a lot of letters. » He said flatly no knowing where to put them. His pocket would do.</p><p class="p1">« Aren’t you going to read them? » She added.</p><p class="p1">« No, the matters of the realm don’t interest me and at the moment, I’m going to see the approaching party with your siblings. And, I know what they say Sansa. »</p><p class="p1">Sansa’s face fell and a hard cold shadow crossed her eyes. « All right father. I’ll be with Robb in the Great Keep if you need us. We’ll come down to greet the party anyway. »</p><p class="p1">He looked at her leave, she’d become so much older. Maybe harder. But he supposed this tended to happen to every child. Her long fiery hair fell on her back, he looked away and took his youngest children to the turret.</p><p class="p1">It took some time to gather everyone in the Courtyard but finally he was there and standing straight as Edmure Tully’s party came inside holding Tully banners. Behind him were Arryn banners. The Tully flag flew proudly in the wind and he found it strange to see it here, so far north. The southrons weren’t much made for cold. He was made for cold. He was cold.</p><p class="p1">Edmure Tully descended from his horse and walked to him. His hair was the same as Catelyn’s, and his eyes too. Robb resembled him a lot, but Robb was more charming, warmer…courtesy of his mother.</p><p class="p1">« Eddard. »</p><p class="p1">He slightly bowed his head. « Welcome to Winterfell Edmure. » Ned gasped when he caught sight of his sister-in-law. All these red hair was overwhelming.</p><p class="p1">« Please gentlemen. We will see to your horses and you may see yourselves to the Great Hall where food and wine awaits. » He paused and looked at the people gathering around him. His children were perfectly silent and still.</p><p class="p1">Lysa Arryn, Edmure, and Brynden Tully looked at him with insistence. « I’ll have warm drinks brought to my solar. Please, follow me. »Brynden Tully’s low and menacing voice stopped him. « Where is she? »</p><p class="p1">Ned closed his eyes and gathered strength. « We’ll go afterward. Now, I wish to see all of you in the solar. »</p><p class="p1">« Lord Stark, I won’t- » Ned was surprised to see Sansa suddenly interrupt the Blackfish. He also noticed how Brynden gasped when he laid eyes on Sansa. He couldn’t do that. Lay eyes on her. It hurt.</p><p class="p1">« The sept. In this courtyard. » Sansa pointed at the path that led to the sept.</p><p class="p1"><em>The sept</em>. He couldn’t go inside the sept, he couldn’t go anywhere. Maybe the godswood. He wanted to go to the godswood now, but he couldn’t. Her family was here.</p><p class="p1">Brynden approached Robb. « Robb, I take it? » His son nodded. « You’ve grown. I’d like it if you could take them to the solar. I wish to speak to your father alone. »</p><p class="p1">Robb didn’t answer, he just nodded and walked to his aunt and uncles. All his children were staring at Lysa. She looked like her sister, no.<em> No one looked like her</em>.</p><p class="p1">Ned took the path that led to the Sept. Brynden would force him anyway. He liked the man, he was spirited and fair. But in truth, he didn’t particularly like anyone at the moment.</p><p class="p1">« You wished to talk with me. » He said coldly. What was cold to him?</p><p class="p1">« Yes, Ned. But I don’t know what of. » Ned got angry at him, why would the man want to talk if he had nothing to say. <em>Oh</em>. He could understand after all.</p><p class="p1">They arrived in front of the Sept. It hurt.</p><p class="p1">« So that’s it. The famous sept in Winterfell. Not since its creation had the North hosted a Sept. Until you. » Brynden gazed at the small building.</p><p class="p1">« Until her. » He corrected.</p><p class="p1">Brynden’s eyes fell on him, Ned could tell the man was pained. She often talked about her relationship with the man. He’d been so important to her. He closed his eyes, the world had nothing for him to see at the moment.</p><p class="p1">« Are you coming in? » Brynden said. He nodded wordlessly, it was the least he could do for someone who had loved her so strongly.</p><p class="p1">He hated the place. All of it. He couldn’t stand the marvelous light rays through the stained colourful glass. He couldn’t stand the judgmental figures of the Seven. He couldn’t stand the silence in the room. He couldn’t stand the coffin in the middle of it.</p><p class="p1">If he had any heart left, it would break all over again. He must have it still because it hurt.</p><p class="p1">Brynden approached the coffin and ran his fingers along it. Why? She wasn’t here. It was useless. She was in their hearts, in his. What was left of it anyway.</p><p class="p1">« You didn’t mention in your letters how she was in her last moments. »</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Moments, they weren’t even moments.</em>
</p><p class="p1">« Broken. » Brynden looked up at him expectantly. He didn’t want to explain. He didn’t want to remember. « She believed she deserved what happened to her. »</p><p class="p1">« What do you mean? »</p><p class="p1">« She blamed herself for Minisa’s death. » Brynden observed him for a long time.</p><p class="p1">« And you blame Minisa for her death. »</p><p class="p1">Ned closed his eyes again. It wasn’t worth it. « I don’t want to talk about this. »A long moment passed and the gray-haired man hadn’t moved.</p><p class="p1">« Why isn’t it open? Surely it’s cold enough to preserve her. » <em>Close your eyes.</em></p><p class="p1">« You may open it. But not when I’m here. » Brynden nodded and traced the letters carved on the marble coffin. How could he do that?</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">CATELYN STARK born TULLY</p><p class="p1">264 AC- 304 AC</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">« Where’s the little one? You said she wasn’t stillborn. »</p><p class="p1">« There too. The name hasn’t been carved yet. »</p><p class="p1">Ned slowly approached the coffin and took a look at the engravings. He had refused it to be finished yet, it would. But later. He hadn’t even wanted anything written…</p><p class="p1">« Was she conscious? »</p><p class="p1">Ned knew what Brynden meant. « Yes. » He wouldn’t tell him what her last words were. They were for him, and for him only. He wondered if it would have been easier had she not been conscious, had they been far away from one another.</p><p class="p1">« How are your children? » Ned looked up annoyed. The question was stupid. He was stupid. Brynden nodded. Could the man read his mind as his niece had? <em>No</em>. <em>Don’t</em>.</p><p class="p1">« Sansa is remarkably like … » Brynden began but Ned interrupted him. He’d heard enough of that, he’d seen enough of that.</p><p class="p1">« I know. She used to like that. Now she hates it. »</p><p class="p1">« She should be proud. Catelyn was. » The sound of her name pierced through him like a thousand daggers. Few dared to mutter her name when he was here. He didn’t say it, not out loud. Yes, he would out loud actually, he knew his dreams betrayed him. When he slept. It wasn’t much.</p><p class="p1">« I’m glad it was you with her in the end. She would have had no other. »</p><p class="p1">« I would have let no other. » Brynden scoffed and nodded smiling. How could the man stay so close to the coffin for so long?</p><p class="p1">« Should we go to your solar Ned? » The man definitely read him like an open book. He didn’t like it. He wanted people to think him dead. <em>Live, for the children</em>. He found it difficult to breathe. Every time he considered life unworthy, her words came to his mind. Like a prayer, a blessing but like a warning and a punch in the guts too.</p><p class="p1">« Yes. They’ll wait for us. »</p><p class="p1">Turning his back on this room, on this sept was just as difficult as entering it. It felt like a betrayal, turning his back on her.</p><p class="p1">They were all in his solar. His children sat close to one another. They had obviously been talking but stopped when Brynden and himself entered. He got around the desk and sat in his chair to preside over the people here.</p><p class="p1">« I am glad you all came. I’ve had rooms prepared for you in the Great keep. Stay for however long you wish. Whoever else came with you too, but their rooms are in the Guesthouse. »</p><p class="p1">« Thank you Ned. » It was Lysa who spoke. Her, he didn’t like. But he still found himself glad she came despite years of quarrel. She continued. « When will it happen? »</p><p class="p1">« Now that you are here, it can happen anytime. » He had wanted them to be here, they were family. <em>Family, duty, honor</em>. She had said that too in her last <em>moments</em> as a command to him.</p><p class="p1">He looked at his children, perfectly still and silent, they were that a lot recently.</p><p class="p1">« Children, have you introduced yourselves to your aunt and uncles? » They looked down.</p><p class="p1">« This is Robb, he’s seventeen. This is Sansa, fourteen. Arya, twelve. Bran, eleven and Rickon Stark, seven. » As he told their age he realized how incredibly young they were, and how much they had lost. </p><p class="p1">« Children, this is your uncle, Lord Edmure Tully, some of you have met him already. This is your aunt Lady Lysa Arryn and this is your great uncle Ser Brynden Tully. You’ve known their names, now you know them too. »</p><p class="p1">Lysa nodded. « I came with my son, Robert Arryn. He’s eight years old. »</p><p class="p1">« Why isn’t he here, he’s family? » Said Rickon simply. Lysa turned to look at Rickon. « He needed to rest young Rickon. You’ll meet him later. »</p><p class="p1">Even now Ned knew the woman resented her sister. He could see in her eyes how she longed for the numerous children that were his… and Catelyn’s. Even his voice had lowered in his mind.</p><p class="p1">« I’d like to know what Catelyn said last. » There they were again, the thousands daggers. The woman certainly didn’t have any decency. Brynden at least had understood.</p><p class="p1">« They… they aren’t words for you to hear. » There should be no shame in this, he knew he told the truth. Yet he denied his half-sister this truth.</p><p class="p1">« I think they are. »</p><p class="p1"><em>I’m cold.</em> That had been the last time he heard her voice, in the middle of the night. He’d spent the evening by her side, she’d talked, it was a farewell, they both knew it. And then she had slept, he dreaded every second of it. Then she had woken, feeling cold, <em>I’m so cold Ned. I can’t feel you</em>. He’d come beside her and held her. <em>Close the window, my love, I’m cold. </em>Then, after he stood to close the window he came back to the bed but she was gone.</p><p class="p1"><em>Cold</em>. He was very cold then. He’d brought her to this cold place, and she had warmed it better than the hot springs ever had. But now she was gone, and he felt cold again. He’d punched the window. It shattered. His heart did too.</p><p class="p1">« She knew she was dying, aunt Lysa. She talked to each of us alone. Her last words were for us. » Sansa stared at Lysa but truly she stared at nothing. He felt grateful for his daughter, she had said that in a soft voice but not less bossy.</p><p class="p1">Only Rickon shared what Catelyn had told him, his other children had said nothing and he respected that. Maybe later they’d be able to share together. But for now, everything was too fresh, and the wound was still wide open.</p><p class="p1">« I heard you intend to put her in the Stark crypt beneath Winterfell? » Edmure questioned but Ned knew it was tainted with disapproval.</p><p class="p1">« She was a Stark and Winterfell was her home. »</p><p class="p1">Lysa rolled her eyes. « And she was a Tully and Riverrun was her home. She should be in Riverrun. »</p><p class="p1"><em>No</em>, they would never win this argument. He had considered it already and he knew Catelyn wished to be here. Winterfell was her home, it was where her children were, where he was.</p><p class="p1">She would be in one of the largest alcoves, her statue would be carved by the finest sculptor, and later, when he’d find his own death, he’d rest beside her in the same alcove. </p><p class="p1">« She should be where she wished to be. I’ll give her that. »</p><p class="p1">« There’s a gap between what we wish and what we must do. Catelyn’s duty was -… »</p><p class="p1">Brynden interrupted her. « Enough Lysa. You're making a fool of yourself. Catelyn will be buried in Winterfell. »</p><p class="p1">A long silence followed the Blackfish’s words. It was heavy and held much grief. Rickon stood and trotted to him, it must be so difficult for him. He looked at his children and all he could see was her, they all looked terribly like her. He pulled Rickon into his lap and kissed his curly head.</p><p class="p1">Catelyn had told him of her mother’s death, Minisa Tully Whent. How it had been difficult for her to take care of her sister and brother without her father’s help. <em>Live, for the children</em>. History seemed to repeat itself; Hoster Tully grieved his wife and couldn’t bear to look at his daughter so much they looked alike. He grieved his wife and couldn’t bear to look at Sansa.</p><p class="p1">But he promised her. He tightened his arms around Rickon and took a deep breath. « Would you rather eat in the Great Hall or have food sent to you? » He directed his question at the three adults.</p><p class="p1">« I don’t wish to see people, I would be glad if you could send food to our rooms. I do wish however to go to the sept. » Said Edmure.</p><p class="p1">« Of course. » He paused. « Children, we’ll eat together in my chambers okay? » Catelyn’s room had been theirs for years. It was dark and cold without her but he just couldn’t go back to his own room. His own room was this one.</p><p class="p1">The first night had been a sleepless one. He’d stared at the objects and trinkets for hours, trying to recall which one she liked best. He’d nearly screamed when he lay in the bed and smelled her. She was all over the room. He’d gone to her wardrobe and her scent had engulfed him entirely in comfort and agony. It was useless to run away from this room, everything in Winterfell reminded him of her. May as well stay here. The second night in her room, he found himself looking over Arya, Bran and Rickon curled up in the furs she had loved so dearly during the coldest nights. They had slept here many times, altogether, like a wolf pack.</p><p class="p1">He noticed that each of his children had discreetly taken something of hers to their own room. He would never tell them he had noticed, this was their secret, the tiniest of comfort they could have.</p><p class="p1">A shawl, a brush, a perfume, a trout brooch, a wooden horse statuette.</p><p class="p1">He’d have his children together, that’s where he would find comfort.</p><p class="p1">Lysa and Edmure stood telling him they’d go to the sept now, and Brynden retired to his chambers. He somehow felt sad they were here because it meant she could be buried anytime now.</p><p class="p1">« Father? »</p><p class="p1">Robb had never been so careful of his siblings, and Ned realized even of himself. Whatever Catelyn had told him, he believed and acted by her words. He looked up and Robb was standing expectantly at the door.</p><p class="p1">« Yes? »</p><p class="p1">« I asked you a question. »</p><p class="p1">« Oh. I’m sorry I didn’t hear. What was it? »</p><p class="p1">« You said we’d have lunch in your chambers. Which? » Ned frowned, he thought it would be obvious for everyone, even his children, who had spent time there with him too.</p><p class="p1">« Well, your mother’s of course. » It hurt. They would forever be Catelyn’s chambers even if she wasn’t here anymore. Robb nodded and got out of the room with Sansa, Arya, and Bran. Rickon remained in his lap.</p><p class="p1">He looked down at the small boy huddled against him. « Rickon, are you okay sweetling? » He hadn’t even noticed when he had begun to use Catelyn’s word of endearment for his children, but it came easily to him now.</p><p class="p1">His son looked hesitant and unsure of what to say, obviously something troubled him. He looked small and fragile. The morning he’d announced his children their mother was dead, Rickon had been silent and ran away. No one had looked for him because each was too taken by grief, Winterfell had been somber that day.</p><p class="p1">He remembered well how the wind howled around the high towers, freezing his blood, only making him aware of the fact he was alive. Winterfell had felt too narrow and no place had given him enough air to breathe. The godswood was bitter, he couldn’t go to the gods who had taken his wife.</p><p class="p1">He’d seen his friends, household, and small folk gasp and sob when he told them the news. He’d even saw Luwin, who knew this would happen, trying to hold back tears. Hullen, Rodrick, Jory, Old Nan, Vayon , Mikken… they all had been terribly affected and grieved.</p><p class="p1">Winterfell was grieving.</p><p class="p1">« I don’t think I am okay. » Rickon looked up and he saw tears in his eyes. Of course, Rickon would be unsure, he’d always been to Catelyn whenever he was sad or afraid, rarely to him.</p><p class="p1">« Tell me, son. I’d like to help you if I can. »</p><p class="p1">Rickon stuttered and it only mirrored the slow stabs of his words inside him. « What… what if I forget? I mean… I’m never forgetting Mother but she slips away sometimes… And, and I asked Robb if he had any memory of himself at seven, and he said it was blurry. What if Mother becomes blurry too? »</p><p class="p1">A somber shade encroached on him, Starks didn’t cry, but he had cried a lot lately and it threatened him again.</p><p class="p1">« She’ll never be blurry Rickon. I won’t let that happen to you or your siblings. You know, when someone so important passes away, things are all blurry at the beginning because you are too sad to recall anything but the pain. But then you remember, and it makes you smile. It takes time, but eventually, it happens. You remember the good times, also the bad ones and people can help you remember too. You can ask your siblings, myself, and even the people in Winterfell. You can even ask people who live in King’s Landing, in the Westerlands and Riverlands. Anyone. Many people knew her and will tell you how amazing she was. »</p><p class="p1">His voice was trembling. He didn’t talk this much anymore. He knew his words to be true, he had grieved his father, brother, sister, and many friends died in battle… This battle he had lost. But he had to help Rickon before him. It’s what she would have wanted. He took a deep breath and hoped that somewhere in the vastness of the world, Catelyn was watching him now, he took comfort in this thought and continued.</p><p class="p1">« Rickon, there is one thing you must know that will never go blurry. And you can believe me because that’s what mommy told you too. She loved you. She told you to remember that she loved you forever, even if she wasn’t here. » He wanted to scream. He poked Rickon’s chest. « And she lives on in your heart sweetling. For as long as you remember how much she loved you nothing will ever go blurry. »</p><p class="p1">Rickon’s tears were shameless and ran down his cheeks like rivers. He shifted and poked at his chest too. « She loved you too, so does she live on in your heart too? » <em>Oh boy, that she does.</em> « Of course, in Robb’s, Sansa’s, Arya’s and Bran’s too. Keep her close to your heart Rickon, it hurts, I know, but it’s what will hurt less. »</p><p class="p1">He tightened his arms around the small boy whose tears were wetting his neck. Catelyn certainly lived on in the lives she had brought to the world, his children were what mattered most now. He would have to talk with Sansa, he’d have to get used to the sight. He was certain she had felt the distance and knew why he avoided her. <em>I’m sorry I did that to our daughter… Thank gods you gave me those children my love</em>. Her face came to his mind, he often pushed the thought away, but this time he let it. She was sitting beside him, in her seat, gazing lovingly at Rickon and himself. Were she here, she’d rock Rickon back and forth in her arms, and then she would bring her hand to his cheek and smile. She’d say <em>It’s okay my lord. It was more fright than real harm.</em> And she’d lean in and kiss him hard enough to trigger his lust but not enough to disgust Rickon between them.</p><p class="p1">Ned could almost feel how her lips felt against his and it broke him because he’d never truly feel them again, he’d never hold her in his arms again, he’d never be mesmerized by the waves of auburn hair again, he’d never be thrilled to see her enter a room again, he’d never make love to her again, he’d never hear her laugh… they were all memories, the sweetest bitter kinds.</p><p class="p1">He looked at how strong the fire in the hearth danced with the wind and he made himself believe that it was a sign from her. <em>‘I’ll be waiting for you, my love’</em>. He nodded pressing a kiss to his son’s forehead.</p><p class="p1">.</p><p class="p1">The roar of the bells echoed in his heart as a laugh from the gods, every stroke resounded cruelly in the courtyard, it was the only sound.</p><p class="p1">It felt like an eternity between each stroke, an eternity which was one without Catelyn by his side; she was across the courtyard, lying still in the coffin. They had opened it, they had to.</p><p class="p1">And now, the snow fell slowly in her hair, it looked like a winter tiara. It looked like the countless laughs they had with the children playing in the snow. It looked like the happiness of going horse riding alone with her in the snowy plains of the North. It looked like the first time he’d seen her with snow in her hair in Winterfell.</p><p class="p1">His children were lined up beside him on his right, except for Rickon who had insisted on holding his hand. All Winterfell was here contemplating as Septas from Riverrun recited foreign requiems. His children stared at the coffin, some cried silently.</p><p class="p1">To his left, Edmure, Lysa and Brynden stood equally still.</p><p class="p1">Ned looked around the courtyard and he felt like the stillness around could only be broken by his wife waking up. It felt like she would. She looked nothing like a corpse, her face was whiter, almost the color of snow but it was serene and smooth. It’s the kind of face he’d find in the morning when she knew everyone was safe in Winterfell and slept soundly.</p><p class="p1">She was on her back, she never slept on her back. They had grown accustomed to lying tangled together, their bodies as close as possible, but never on their backs.</p><p class="p1">He followed the length of her arm and his heart clenched when his eyes lay on the small form at her side. The infant had not lived a day but Catelyn had loved her with her whole being already. He resented the infant, he had no right to because he had held Minisa too and he loved her deeply. In her small life, she had cried, seen her siblings, been fed by her mother, and visited the godswood.</p><p class="p1">It was late in the night, Catelyn had woken up because her breasts hurt from fullness of breast milk and she had woken him too. She was too weak to stand and even hold her baby alone. He had gone to the cradle on her side of the bed wondering too why the baby hadn’t screamed out of hunger earlier. He’d expertly lifted the baby in his arms and he froze when he felt no heartbeat. Despite the terrible gash between her legs, she stood, knowing already why he didn’t respond to her calls and questions. She’d screamed, a horrific cry of suffering. Now both baby and mother lay still in the coffin.</p><p class="p1">« Lord Stark, the tomb is ready, so is the statue. May we begin the procession? » He nodded and approached the coffin, as everyone would after him. He stood above it, inches away from her, her body.</p><p class="p1">This would be the last time ever he’d lay eyes on her, he’d never forget her face. He’d never forget how those blue eyes of hers could see right through him. He’d been in the sept for the past day and night, he’d sat beside the open coffin and he’d said goodbye to her already. But it was hard not to strike her cheek like he had, too many eyes were on him at the moment.</p><p class="p1">« I will find you again my love, when it's time. »</p><p class="p1">He walked away from the coffin refusing to look at anyone, and he silently made his way to the crypt. The figures carved in stone looked at him with their all mightiness, he went past his family and walked to where he would bury his heart.</p><p class="p1">He wandered a long time and stopped only when he heard people approaching, Septas, the coffin, his family, and some of the household.</p><p class="p1">The Tully ones seemed unsure of the place, they were out of place. They didn’t belong here like Catelyn and his children did. Robb had his sisters’ hand in his, Bran clung to Sansa and Rickon raced to him.</p><p class="p1">« It looks like mommy. » He whispered to him when he looked at the statue. <em>Mommy</em>. Rickon had stopped calling her that a long time ago, but it seemed like it was all he could call her now.</p><p class="p1">« It does. »</p><p class="p1">Catelyn’s statue was astonishing, she stood straight looking ahead. The dress had a motion that made him think of when the wind waltzed in her Tully blue dresses, and here, the dress turned into water, the Red Fork where she was born. You could see a trout swimming proudly at her feet. One of the fins turned into a paw, and a large wolf emerged from it. It stood close, it was as if she was leaning against it. The pigment, like all other statues, would fade away with time, and the red of her hair would soon turn the color of the stone, it was the wrong red, but it was red. She held a baby against her chest, Minisa. It seemed to Ned that even in stone she held protectively the baby against her. The grains of stone had been polished on the visible parts of the skin.</p><p class="p1">No one, not even Rickard Stark had such a beautiful statue. He had wanted that for his children, for himself.</p><p class="p1">A southron in the crypt of Winterfell, a sept in the courtyard of Winterfell, a sun in the snowy lands of the North. It would have horrified him seventeen years ago. Now he couldn’t think any differently.</p><p class="p1">As much as he wanted to look away when the large stone pedestal of the statue recovered his wife and infant’s body forever, he also couldn’t even think not to have a last glimpse of her again. And when it was fully out of sight and that he knew she’d remain hidden here, he looked up at the statue and felt burning tears roll down his cheeks. He had never allowed anyone to see his tears, not in his lifetime as a lord. Only his wife had seen them and kissed them away.</p><p class="p1">He wasn’t aware of who and when people began to leave, some said words of comfort to him, but he didn’t hear them.</p><p class="p1">At one point he was alone, staring still at the statue, giving it a thousand silent prayers like he would give the heart tree. He’d live on, he’d do his best to be a good father and a good lord. He’d raise their children, proof of their love, to be good people, he would give them the best lives possible. Because that’s what she would want.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3">— 334 AC —</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His wound was fatal, he would never recover from the fall. The stupid horse had been scared of a snake and had ruined his good time with his granddaughters.</p><p class="p1">And now he lay in his bed unable to stand and barely to talk. He saw everyone coming in and out of his room with teary eyes, his children. Those who lived in the North anyway.</p><p class="p1">Robb was ready to be Lord of Winterfell, he’d taught him everything; he would be an even better lord. And his lovely wife, Dacey Mormont was absolutely ready to back him up. Robb had paced in his room all day to the point of headache.</p><p class="p1">Sansa had stayed by his side all along too. She was visiting for the first time in years since the Reach was so far away from Winterfell. He’d been surprised how much tanned her skin was, it certainly had lost some of the snowy colors it used to have when she lived in Winterfell. She was beautiful and a good mother. And she called her children sweetling. She was all her mother.</p><p class="p1">Arya was on her way they said, she’d lived in White Harbor and was a Manderly. She found love in her wedding despite her protests at being betrothed when she was fifteen. She was happy and bossed her husband around. It’s all that mattered.</p><p class="p1">Bran was a knight in King’s Landing, a kingsguard to Robert Baratheon, who Ned couldn’t still believe, had managed to stay alive so long. He hadn’t received news in a long time and somehow hoped his son would ride North, he’d like to see him one last time.</p><p class="p1">Rickon was chosen Lord of the Vale since Sweet Robin died and Jon Arryn had no heir he trusted or liked. He’d married Lyanna Mormont and was very content with it.</p><p class="p1">He’d managed to give his children a good life, they were happy and strong, so very strong. Ned closed his eyes for a moment, he could rest easy now that he had achieved his promise to Catelyn. Sixteen grandchildren, she’d love that. He couldn’t wait to tell her.</p><p class="p1">As much as he hated to leave the world of the living, where his family was, he also couldn’t wait to meet his heart again. <em>I’m coming my love</em>.</p><p class="p1">Thirty years and there was not a day where he didn’t think of her, she’d been by his side always. He had taken no other wife despite the many proposals he received, no one would take her place as Lady Stark of Winterfell while he lived. He chuckled, even Dacey was called Lady Dacey, very few called her Stark. Sansa Tyrell, Arya Manderly… he’d given his daughters to high lords. Dacey Stark, Lyanna Stark. Those were good strong northern names. The North would follow that.</p><p class="p1">It was a delight to see Rickon, a few days later, come into his chambers holding a baby. He hadn’t seen his latest grandchild yet, Catelyn Stark. Rickon sat on the edge of the bed and lay the baby on his lap. Ned gasped when he saw some red on the baby’s head, and blue eyes looking at him. This little girl looked like Sansa when she was born.</p><p class="p1">« That’s a fine name for a fine girl. But you set the bar high on this child already son. » He laughed and nodded. « She’ll know her name father. » Ned stroke the baby’s head and looked up at Lyanna. « How was the birth Lyanna? » This girl - woman - had given five children to his son, five healthy babes.</p><p class="p1">« It was okay my lord. A bit troublesome but nothing I couldn’t handle. I’m very proud to call my daughter Catelyn Stark… »</p><p class="p1">« It is indeed a name one would be proud to bear. »</p><p class="p1">Dying wasn’t so terrible after all, it sure was more difficult for the living that stayed behind. He recalled the tears of his children and grandchildren when he closed his eyes for the last time, in his bed. He recalled how he had cried when Catelyn had closed her eyes forever. Now he would see them open again.</p><p class="p1">.</p><p class="p1">It was unbelievably hot, the sweat was forming drops that he could feel run down his neck and temples. But this warmth wasn’t unpleasant. His body felt sore but strong nevertheless, a strength he had lost a long time ago.He wondered if those were the latest medications Maester Arnolf had given him and that Sansa had ordered him to take. Ah, Sansa, the warmth must be the hearth she had continually fuelled.</p><p class="p1">He sank deeper into the mattress appreciating the calm in the room. He loved his grandchildren but they were very noisy. Funny how Maester Arnolf’s medication made him feel like the rise and fall of his chest was outside his body and beside him.</p><p class="p1">Then he heard a chuckle.</p><p class="p1">It was a sound he heard a long time ago, he couldn’t put a name on it but he knew it was a sound he had liked once. Must be the medication.</p><p class="p1">« My love. »</p><p class="p1">Ned felt like something very hard and solid had just penetrated his body, and it was beating and it was under his chest. That voice, only one in the realms had this voice. Only one in the realms called him that. <em>I must have died</em>.</p><p class="p1">« Open your eyes, my love. »</p><p class="p1">It was more than he could take, every fiber of his being was electrified, he couldn’t breathe, or maybe he could breathe again. Ned opened his eyes and realized he wasn’t in his room, it wasn’t a room really, nor was it a place. But it felt like it.</p><p class="p1">He turned his head, he saw her.</p><p class="p1">She wasn’t really a shape, but he could see one. She leaned on her elbow and looked at him expectantly, those eyes. Those piercing eyes. He couldn’t look anywhere but her eyes. Fulfilled with love and amusement. </p><p class="p1">She was exactly like he remembered, ocean blue, copper red, warm. Home.</p><p class="p1">« I’ve been waiting for you my love. »</p><p class="p1">Oh her voice. He slowly rose, he hadn’t a body really, but it felt like it. They were in their bed in Winterfell. No, it wasn’t a bed and it wasn’t Winterfell. But it felt like it.</p><p class="p1">« Catelyn. » The name on his tongue had never sounded more true and lively. For decades it had felt like a stab, a memory. Now it felt like it was the only word he ever needed.</p><p class="p1">She nodded and approached him. He knew it was neither a dream neither a hallucination. This was real. His hand rose by itself and traced the curve of her face, she leaned into the touch.</p><p class="p1">« You found me again Ned. »</p><p class="p1">He smiled a real smile, one that wasn’t tainted with pain, grief, or worry. This was for the living. He knew in this split second, if second meant something wherever he was, that he’d spent the rest of his existence looking at those ocean eyes. He’d feel forever this unbearable warmth, and he would cherish it. She was all sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch, this is how it felt.</p><p class="p1">He had feared death and what would come. Not anymore. There was nothing he knew but <em>this</em>, a feeling of floating, of being whole… of belonging somewhere. He was Catelyn’s and she was his.</p><p class="p1">He was everything because he was a ‘they’.</p>
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